Little Something
by LethalIngenuity
Summary: Life sucks when you're going to die.


Prussia wasn't supposed to go out like this. He was supposed to go out in the most epic way possible, involving explosions, cannons, gun fire, and fireworks. Instead, he found himself too weak to even walk outside of his room. He just lay there, staring out his window.

He was a shadow of his former self. He could see it in the way that everyone looked at him. Hungary - she would hit him more softly, as if afraid he might break. Germany was always at his beck and call, as soon as Prussia would even cough, Germany would be there. Italy would still smile, but it was a sad smile, if that made any sense. Sometimes Italy would dash out of the room and Prussia would hear him crying. The songs on the piano Austria played sounded sadder, more melancholic. Even Switzerland would visit. Perhaps he was the kindest. He offered to shoot Prussia in the head and end his life right now.

But there was one nation that would quietly sit by his side, not saying anything. Canada would always smile meekly, tilt his head to the side, and let Prussia be. Canada knew what Prussia wanted. He didn't want to be treated as if he was weak, or useless, or as if he couldn't do anything. Perhaps it was because they never had such a close history.

Nevertheless, no matter how kind they all were, Prussia was still miserable. He would often tell Canada how much he longed to go outside and see East Germany. How he couldn't handle being cooped up inside, how he would rather die than be inside.

But that was also how Prussia suffered. Prussia would ask Canada to kill him, because he was the most least detached out of them all. But Canada refused. He wouldn't end Prussia's life, or let Prussia end his own.

Soon Prussia had become so sick he was admitted to the hospital. He didn't think it could have been worse, but it was. He was away from home, away from everyone. No more comfort. This is when Prussia had started begging Canada to let him go. He needed to see East Germany. He needed to be there. Canada would once again, meekly smile, but politely decline.

One day, he finally managed to convince Canada to help him. With one arm around Canada's shoulder, Prussia managed to hobble right outside the hospital. But as he was hit with a blast of cold air, Prussia fell into a fit of coughs. Canada rushed him back to the hospital.

"I-I'm so sorry," he would say, in his gentle voice of his.

Prussia didn't want to forgive him. But he did, because some how the two became best friends over some maple syrup, and they were drinking buddies who made fun of America's soft beer, and were weed buddies whenever Netherlands showed up to meetings, and were loners together, whenever the other nations either ignored or didn't know of their existence.

"I want to see East Berlin..." Prussia would sometimes whisper. Canada would say nothing, but would squeeze the ex-nations hand.

Prussia constantly fell in and out of conciousness. The time periods would grow longer and longer, and the gaps in between would be shorter and shorter. Soon Prussia would be unconscious for months on end. Sometimes when he woke up, he would hear the muffled voices of Germany, or Hungary, and sometimes even Romania. But he would always see Canada sitting there quietly, not saying a word. Whenever Prussia was concious, he would always say, "I want to see East Berlin."

Once when he woke up, and Canada was not there. Prussia would only close his eyes, feeling a bit sad, and accepting defeat. Even Canada knew when to give up on him. He could hear Germany say, "He doesn't have much longer. His people are losing their identity; becoming more German, than Prussian."

This time it was the sound of squeaking wheels. His bed was being moved, and he could just make out the shape of his brother Germany, walking by his side.

"What's going on?" Prussia asked.

"We're moving you to a new room."

"Why?"

Germany smiled, which was odd for the usually angry nation. "It was a request from Canada."

A request from Canada? Didn't Canada leave him?

"Close your eyes~" Italy said in a sing song voice from somewhere behind.

Prussia did. Soon, the sound of squeaking wheels stopped.

"Open your eyes," whispered a very familiar and gentle voice.

When Prussia opened his eyes, he saw all of his friends and family there. France, Spain, Austria, Hungary, all of them. Even Russia. They didn't stand around his bed but rather in a line in front of him. When they noticed he was awake, their chattering stopped. Then one by one, they would walk to Prussia's side, and soon it was just Canada standing there.

"I hope this is good enough. It's just a little something." he said, as he walked away.

And that's when Prussia noticed it. On the wall facing opposite of his bed was a panoramic view of East Berlin.

The nations waited with abated breath for the Prussian's reaction.

There was that maniacal grin he was most known for. "I love it." he declared.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief, and then someone called out for beer. The beer was brought out, and it was like a party.

Canada stood by Prussia's side as the other nations celebrated.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the shouting.

"I like it but I think you could have done better," Prussia admitted.

The Canadian frowned. "How so?"

"You should have painted a gigantic portrait of me. Now _that_would have been awesome."

Canada rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. Prussia laughed heartily, and for the first time in a while, he forgot he was an ex-nation. The party was successful, but eventually the nations were ushered out by some very frustrated nurses. Canada stayed though. He stayed until Prussia had fallen into a deep slumber.

Prussia never awoke again.

* * *

><p>I should just put in my profile, "WARNING. I KILL OFF ALL YOUR FAVOURITE CHARACTERS."<p> 


End file.
